


Reaping Memories

by Heartguts



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6305128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heartguts/pseuds/Heartguts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I forgot his name."<br/>Maedhros barely remembers someone he knew in Valinor and decides to go to Maglor for help. Set during the time they raised Elrond and Elros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaping Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing as I didn't know this before diving into Silm fanfic and used to be super confused: ammë means mother in Quenya, adar means father in Sindarin.

"I forgot his name." 

Maedhros spoke to himself, barely a whisper. Woken from a dream that was already slipping, only remembering that the sole figure in it had been real. 

He was real.

He was real, and Maedhros forgot him.

He fumbled for the candle on the nightstand, then didn't bother lighting it. He'd thought to look through what few journals and records he had kept, but it would be useless.

They'd known each other back in Valinor. He'd died before the First Age had even begun. Before Maedhros started writing (still a rare act--who needed to write when they had their songs and stories? But Maedhros could not remember them anymore, lost years or decades from his memory after his torment, and the act allowed him to gain finesse in his left hand before his brothers allowed him to start training).

There would be no record. If there had been a family, they were gone, back in Valinor, perhaps, or victims of the Bragollach. He couldn't remember. 

He could ask Maglor. Maglor had a song or poem for every insignificant event of their lives, including a centuries-long tale of every time Caranthir had fought someone over petty nonsense. Maglor might know, if Maedhros had ever told him.  _Why couldn't he remember?  
_

Maedhros stood, finally. Slipped his robe on and walked the stone halls to his brother's room, surprised to hear the faint sound of his harp and see the flicker of light through the door. He knocked softly before entering, and understood as he saw Elrond and Elros curled up in the blankets of Maglor's bed, Maglor himself sitting on the edge, his hands now stilled on the harp. The twins, mercifully, did not wake as Maglor gathered himself and went to his brother, guiding them back into the hall and closing the door again. 

 "What is it?"

"There..." And Maedhros froze, words sticking in his throat. It was so ridiculous. It was a ridiculous, embarrassing, personal matter, why was he willingly sharing--

"Yes?" Maglor picked up on the faint flush creeping its way into his brother's cheeks and smirked.

"You wouldn't remember if I had. Courted. Anyone in Valinor, would you?"

"...Is this about Tuialorë?"

Maedhros's brow furrowed. 

"Tuialorë?" 

He half expected Maglor to make a disparaging comment,  _how could you forget_ , but instead Maglor's smirk softened to a smile.

"If you're talking about the boy you would never shut up about, then yes, Tuialorë. The one who was more freckles than face." 

And Maedhros started speaking, half-remembered moments pouring forth, and Maglor listened, occasionally filling in gaps with what he knew.

"He trained with us, sometimes, when Fëanor insisted we all learn swordplay." Maglor supplied, sighing.

"He did, didn't he? He wasn't very good at it."

"No, he wasn't. He cut himself on one once before we'd even started."

"And I..."

"You doted on him for the rest of the day. It's a miracle Fëanor didn't notice." 

"Ammë did, didn't she?" Maedhros brushed his hair from his face, the memory of their mother's knowing smile as she handed him a jar, a healing salve that was entirely unnecessary for the minor cut Tuialorë had.

"She  _always_  knew. She knew about..."

The pair lapsed into silence for a moment, suddenly aware of voices from behind the door.

"Adar  _loves_  someone."

"That's stupid! He can't  _like people."_

"Well then obviously  _you're_  stupid because he just said he did." 

Maedhros looked back at his brother, mock horror in his eyes.

"I'm never going to hear the end of this." 

"No, you're not. You never did in Valinor either. I might still remember some songs I wrote about how ridiculous you were..."

_"Don't you dare."_  And Maglor laughed, soft and bright, a sound that had been lost for years. Maedhros smiled and stepped back. "I'll let you get them back to sleep. Good night, Cáno." 

"Good night, Maitimo." Something gnawed at the edge of Maglor's words, but Maedhros let it go for the time. He returned to his room, finally lighting the candle he had left behind, and taking a journal from inside his desk.  


_Tuialorë._

He would not forget again.

**Author's Note:**

> Things that went (mostly) unmentioned: Maglor totally dated Gothmog, Maedhros is trans, the difference between what they call Fëanor and Nerdanel is bitter and intentional, and Tuialorë died when Maedhros was taken captive.
> 
> Also, the twins call Maedhros and Magor "adar" and "ada" respectively.


End file.
